Of Napkins and Notes
by A Killer Joke
Summary: Valentine's Day fill for a request on the kinkmeme.


One had to admit that life at the moment was fairly hectic, to say the least. The Assassins were rather busy people. When they weren't escaping the clutches of Abstergo by the skin of their teeth, they were constantly rifling through Desmond's memories and checking for any vital information at an efficient speed with no room for delays. There was the slightest time constraint, after all; that little bit about the world ending in a matter of weeks, you know. A trifle detail.

Between all of these things, Shaun had been hoping that the team might forget about a certain upcoming holiday. It wouldn't be the first time they'd all lost track of the date because they were so caught up in their work, so it was perfectly plausible, or so Shaun liked to think.

Of course, he should have known that it was ridiculous to hold onto that hope.

The fourteenth of February started like any other day, with Desmond spending the majority of the morning in the Animus while the rest of the team sat at their respective desks. When lunchtime finally rolled around, they all took a much-needed break. Lucy went through their small rations to try and fix up something to eat, Rebecca ran some routine maintenance on Baby, Desmond stepped outside to stretch his legs, and Shaun busied himself with skimming over the latest database entries.

A perfectly normal day, until Desmond stepped back inside a few minutes later, walking oh-so-_not_ casually with a hand tucked behind his back. Unable to help his mild curiosity, Shaun watched him over the rim of his glasses, and when the other man predictably shuffled over to Lucy's desk, Shaun snorted in amusement and closed out the entries he'd been reading. He stood up, muttering something about a _twelve-year-old lovesick tosser_ as he stepped over to their small supply station, which was simply a few crates piled on top of each other in one corner of the Sanctuary.

"Where're you going?" Rebecca's voice floated up from where she was kneeling over, most of her head and shoulders hidden while she presumably tinkered with some of Baby's wiring, as she was wont to do.

"To our little rag-tag 'kitchen', where else?" Shaun answered, wishing that there was more than just the twenty some-odd feet between their supplies and Lucy's desk. He really didn't need to see Desmond get the whole puppy-eyed look going on as he smiled shyly and presented a freshly plucked white flower to the blonde woman. "You could've just lifted your damn head and looked to see for yourself if you're so concerned about monitoring me," he continued, grouching at Rebecca as a distraction while he picked through a small crate of dry foodstuffs. Where had the tea gone off to now?

"Hey, I was just asking," Rebecca complained, peeking out above Baby with an exaggerated pout. Finally fishing out a packet of tea - the instant stuff; absolute rubbish, but beggars can't be choosers - Shaun glanced over at her briefly, unsurprised to see her black hair sticking up in odd directions, having been mussed up when weaseling around under the Animus.

"Terribly sorry, I wasn't aware that you decided to be my mum," Shaun replied flippantly, and Rebecca simply rolled her eyes before ducking her head to continue whatever technologic dorkery she'd been working on. Not that Shaun minded, of course. It left him free to do battle with an uncooperative portable burner in relative silence, his back turned to the rest of the group as he set a kettle on to boil.

Thankfully, by the time he was done preparing his tea, the two awkward lovebirds had finished with their brief exchange. Lucy was busily typing away at something on her computer with a bit too much focus, and the brunette man had perched himself on a crate a few feet away, picking at the leftovers of whatever meal had been prepared earlier and glancing at Lucy at least every other second.

Even more daft than a twelve-year-old. Kindergartener, maybe?

Not that Shaun was much invested in measuring out the full extent of Desmond's idiocy. He shook his head to himself, taking his cup of tea back to his desk and setting it on a napkin he typically kept there. It wouldn't do to blot all his carefully-collected notes with cup ring stains, after all.

Taking a seat, Shaun lifted the cup and took a tentative sip, breathing out a contented sigh. Raising the cup to his mouth again, he froze mid-swallow, the rim still touching his lips as he narrowed his eyes at the napkin.

There was a note scribbled on it.

_Was your father a baker? 'Cause you've got a nice set of buns._

Shaun choked on his tea, spluttering and hastily setting the cup down lest he spill it everywhere. "Who- who in the bloody hell-" he managed to get out between coughs, the scalding drink burning his throat.

There was a very self-satisfied cackle from the direction of Rebecca's desk. "Happy Valentine's Day, Shaun."

Wiping at his mouth with a scowl, Shaun looked over his shoulder and shot the techie a dark glare. "Haha, very funny. Bugger off."

Try as he might to look as offended and disgruntled as possible, Rebecca remained totally unaffected by his efforts, meeting his glare with a shit-eating grin. "I mean it, y'know," she said, then winked at him, far too amused. "You _do_ have a nice ass."

"Just-" Shaun stammered, pulling his glasses off irritably and covering his face with his hands, feeling his cheeks grow embarrassingly hot. "Just shut up, for the love of god."

Rebecca did indeed shut up, turning back to face the monitor at her desk, though she kept quietly snickering to herself for at least another five minutes.


End file.
